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I’ll go as far as I can, be as cruel as I must, in order to get what I want.
I’ll make them rue the day they crossed the Siderov Bratva.
And after, I’ll find Emily, and teach her the consequences for daring to run away from me.
11
EMILY
When I was little,I buried a time capsule.
It was just a plastic Easter egg I’d stuffed with a note to myself and some stickers I thought were cool. My plan was to dig it up in ten years and compare it with all the new things I accumulated during that time and see the difference. Mostly I remember being thrilled at the idea of how it would feel to come across something frozen in time.
But now that I’m standing in one, I’m anything but thrilled.
Olivia’s apartment hasn’t been touched since her death a week ago. Well, eight days now. There’s an old plate of apple slices, green from mold, on the coffee table. Clothes are piled randomly on every piece of furniture. The potted plant in the window is nothing but a wilted twig.
I turn the apartment key over and over in my hand, thumbing the rough edges.
The teeth of the key cut into my fingers, but I don’t care. It’s been almost a full twenty-four hours since I learned that Olivia was dead.
And the entire time, the same thought keeps rushing through my head
They should’ve told me sooner.
When the police officer handed the key to me, I could tell he wanted to ask why no family came for eight whole days. I almost wished he did. Because I would’ve told him what I’ve known my entire life.
My Mom and Dad didn’t give a shit about her,I would’ve said.They just care that she might finally be able to repay them for all their troubles over the years now that she’s dead.
Useless.I can hear the Mom and Dad in my head.Ungrateful. Worthless.
Junkie. Junkie. Junkie.
I squeeze my eyes shut and clench my fists tightly around the key. It hurts, but the pain can’t silence my parents’ voices.
They didn’t care. Theynever cared.
The key came with a few other things that belonged to my sister: her ID, a wallet with nothing in it but maxed-out credit cards, and a phone that I can’t unlock.
She had been my selfless defender when I was a kid—always standing between me and our parents whenever they started yelling. And whenever she did that, they would always turn their attention on her.
No matter what they were mad at me about, the moment they saw her, their anger would grow tenfold.
And they made sure their wordshurt.
Useless. Ungrateful. Worthless. Why are you still here?
She’d take their verbal abuse without so much as a blink, even when I could see the hurt written in her eyes. She would stay strong until it was just the two of us, and only then was I allowed to see her cry.
Only then would she allow me to hold her like she held me whenever I was bawling my eyes out. Only then would she nod through the sobs when I promised her what she promised me—that everything would be alright.
And the only time I managed to be there for her was the night when she overdosed.
It was the first and only time Ididsave her.
And in the aftermath, she asked me why I bothered to bring her back.
Because you’re my sister,I told her.And sisters have each other’s backs.
